


this is not a love song

by mido



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Gen, android au or sth, implied jerking off but its pretty easy to tell lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mido/pseuds/mido
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So he sits at his desk with his head down, staring at the floor and wondering if it’d be against the law if he fucked Nagisa or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is not a love song

**Author's Note:**

> this is just me coping after i finished season 1 nd its growing on me for no apparent reason

Only in his room, painfully lonely and rather dull, does he let anything flow. The blinds are always pulled down, closed and shut to keep the outside world out and his inside world in. His parents have long since given up, and in all honesty, he’s glad they’re out of his hair. It’s not like they care about anything more—if his grades are satisfactory, they’re happy. If they’re happy, he’s happy.

Etcetera.

If he was brutally honest about it, it’s a bit boring with no one to vent to other than a suicide chatroom he’d joined mostly on impulse rather than interest in fulfilling the actual deed. The people moping in there are a little too depressive for him to want to talk to, but when he frustrates himself when he’s alone like this he has few other options. And though the users there waste no time in putting themselves down, they never hesitate to stop others when they do the same. They tell him, _fuck it._ They tell him, _who gives a shit._

So Karma deals. It’s not as if his situation’s much worse than theirs, right? He goes to school (mostly), talks to Nagisa and everyone (usually), and leaves after class (early). It’s funny—the way he skips like this and barely shows himself anymore, yet his greeting is the same warm one as always; a light smile, one unwithering around the edges.

Unfortunately for Nagisa, Karma is a 3rd year junior high school student. Meaning, he is fourteen years old, nearing fifteen. Meaning, he is wobbling over into the prime of his adolescence. Meaning, he is learning new things.

Meaning, youth.

Nagisa’s name is warbled alone in his bedroom, computer screen blank, blinds closed, door shut. He’s dirtying it, shoving it into the mud and rubbing it under his foot, and yet he doesn’t stop, finding disgusting enjoyment in such an action. It’s gross, feels as if he’s sinking lower than he has before, unsettling almost. Maybe Koro-sensei’s read about humiliation kinks in a porn mag before. 

If anyone knew about this part of him, Kayano’d most likely keep him approximately three million miles away from Nagisa throughout the day. _Like she hasn’t done it,_ he thinks to himself, smug. He types one-handed (which isn’t as easy as it seems to look) on his computer, throwing whatever comes into his head into an audience of suicidal teenagers, the other hand wrapped around himself.

No one can casually share that with their friends when prompted with “How was your evening?”, so Karma waves off the question the next day, making up something on the spot about helping what’shisname with somethingorother, then heading home and eating dinnerorwhatever. Nagisa cocks his head at him as if he can tell he’s lying, but Karma knows Shiota’s retinal scanners can process intimidation when identified, so he looks straight back, daring him to say a word.

He doesn’t, and another topic comes easily.

Karma looks up the price of buying his own android that afternoon, one that could at least _try_ to replace Nagisa. They come as customizable as you'd expect, with hair length and hair color, skin color and eye color, sex and junk. You can even choose what tongue length you want, if you’re into that kind of this. Karma flashes back to his suicidal acquaintances’ words, mumbling _fuck it_ into his ear, but his browser shorts out, and his tabs close before he can click _Order_. Perhaps it’s for the better, he wonders, as he doesn’t bother to reopen them again. 

When he goes to school the next day everything feels off purely because of some change in himself he’s failed to notice, but no one else seems to care. Nagisa gives him a weird look once, but he immerses himself back in the conversation soon enough.

It’s not out of the ordinary for Karma to nap in class, so he sits at his desk with his head down, staring at the floor and wondering if it’d be against the law if he fucked Nagisa or not.


End file.
